


Quiet, Or Something Like It Anyway

by vgsfshade6116



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fantasy AU, Fluff, M/M, farmer Morrison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 07:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11778501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vgsfshade6116/pseuds/vgsfshade6116
Summary: Kingdoms rise, kingdoms fall. Men with power weave webs of intrigue, seeking to raise their positions in the world. Assassins in the shadows take part in their games, sometimes seeking to become true players instead of being mere pieces.But that's other people's business. Jack's too busy with his farm to spare a thought to whatever's going on in the big cities. Life is quiet, though a bit too humdrum and boring.Then a sudden intrusion appears in the form of a masked mercenary taking a nap in his barn.





	Quiet, Or Something Like It Anyway

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SenkiroWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenkiroWolf/gifts).



The first time Jack met Reaper, he had found the mercenary lying on the hay in his barn.

Jack, who had been there to milk his cows, put down his buckets to prod at the black-cloaked figure. Jack thought he was dead, seeing as he was unmoving. Of all the novelties to break up his routine, a dead body had to be the one to show up.

Then, in a single, fluid motion, a strong hand wrapped around Jack’s throat, and a sword was pressed against his stomach.

They stared each other down, a bone-white mask glaring into bright blue eyes. Jack finally got sick of the silence and broke it.

“So which is it? Choking me or stabbing me?”

The masked man snarled. “Shut up,” a gravelly voice growled out, but then he groaned in pain. Glancing to the side Jack could see dried splatters of blood on the hay below the stranger.

“I would be able to help you if you let me go. Even though you’ve been rather rude to me, what with threatening me with a sword, and this is _my_ barn that you’ve decided to take a nap in.”

After silently considering the offer, the other let go of Jack. The feeling of the sword pressed against him fresh in his mind, Jack quickly got a potion he kept in case of emergencies.

The stranger took the bottle without thanks. He removed his mask to drink it, revealing a heavily scarred, bearded face underneath.

“So you’re actually human,” the words spilled out before Jack could stop them. If he couldn’t stop his mouth anytime soon he’d likely end up with a sword between his ribs anyway.

Scary man raised an eyebrow. “You thought I wasn’t?”

“Well there was the mask for one thing. And your look in general. You don’t see anyone wearing anything like that unless they’re a dark sorcerer or a demon.”

“Hmph, you’re not the first one to call me the latter.” He downed the red liquid, sighing in relief as it did its work.

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Who exactly are you then, if you’ve got a reputation like that?”

“I’m known to most as Reaper. Someone wants another guy dead, they come to me.”

Reaper? Jack had to raise an eyebrow at that. There was no way that was the guy’s actual name, but he had a feeling that any attempt to get it would be met with a resounding piss off.

“So then how’d you end up here?”

“Job gone wrong,” was all that Reaper explained. “I was looking for somewhere to rest up. But no target’s ever been able to escape me forever.”

“Does that mean you’re leaving soon?”

“Not yet. I need to form a new plan to get past my target’s defenses.”

“Oh. Okay then. Feel free to just go around my farm then, I’m not going to try and stop you.”

“Smart man.” Reaper said dryly.

So Reaper moved from the barn to the farmhouse proper. Though nonplussed at his new houseguest, Jack let him do as he pleased because he much preferred having his organs inside his body. At least Reaper wasn’t an active nuisance. He spent most of his time in the living room, poring over rough sketches of maps that he would always pull away if Jack tried to sneak a peek.

There were the occasional hiccups. The first time Jack bought Reaper dinner, he took one bite, then commented, “This is the blandest shit I’ve ever tasted. Have you never heard of spices?”

“If you wanted a sprig of parsley to go with it you could’ve asked.” Jack deadpanned.

Reaper made a face. “Don't you have any paprika? Cumin? Oregano?”

“Do I look like I could afford those?”

“You’re a goddamned farmer! Grow them on your own!”

Eventually Jack assured Reaper that he would add spices to his seasonings cabinet. In due time. If the weather wasn’t bad. If they even showed up in the market.

Over the next several days Jack managed to get some semblance of normalcy back. He would tend to his crops, feed and water his livestock and let them have some fresh air, and make the occasional trip to town to sell off his products. Reaper meanwhile would stay shut up in the guest bedroom with his plans.

One day Jack glanced inside to see Reaper glaring at scraps of paper, evidently torn up in frustration. Sick of the mercenary mooching off of him at this point, he said, “You know, instead of staying cooped up brooding here all day you could actually help me around the farm. Some people actually have to work for a living.”

Somehow that did not end in Jack getting a curse thrown at his face, but the two of them out in the fields together, weeding. Reaper looked just as perplexed as he did. From then on Reaper pulled his weight, helping Jack with the chores.

One one memorable occasion they had been harvesting vegetables together. “Aw, shit!” Jack cursed upon uprooting a carrot and spotting the telltale signs of nibbling. Upon further investigation he determined the culprits were some gophers that had moved in. Jack was about to get a spade to dig the pests out when Reaper raised a hand. He chanted in some ancient, guttural language, and Jack felt the air grow heavier. Suddenly a dark pillar of energy manifested, from which poured out phantoms that descended onto the garden. Jack watched as they chased out the gophers, only disappearing when the task was done.

“That was...certainly effective.” was all that Jack could say, the screaming of the damned still echoing in his ears.

Then one day Reaper suddenly disappeared. When he hadn’t come down for breakfast, Jack had knocked on his door, only to receive no answer. Opening the door, he found only an empty bedroom, so neatly made that it was as though no one had ever slept in it over the past week. Jack was almost sad when saw that Reaper was gone. He had broken up the monotony, or at least made it more bearable. Now he would only be a strange little blip in his life, never to be seen again.

Then, two weeks later, Reaper showed up at his doorstep, and what was more, he wasn’t alone.

Jesse, the one with the strange hat, had been Reaper’s former apprentice as he later learned. With how easygoing he was it was very hard to picture the two together, but he was charming enough for Jack to like him. Genji however, was a different story. His appearance was offputting enough, what with the dark metal literally fused to green scales, but his attitude was somehow worse than Reaper’s. He constantly glowered at Jack, seemingly looking for any excuse to use his swords on him.

The two newcomers were not freeloaders though, Reaper made it very clear that they were to help Jack. Jesse had actually burst out laughing when Reaper said they were going to do farmwork, only to die down when he realized that the other was being serious. Work became so much easier with three extra hands around, though it wasn’t always smooth sailing, such as when Genji had failed to heed Jack’s warning about not standing right behind the cows. He had gotten a good kick to the stomach for his trouble, and had to spend the rest of day in bed. Reaper had also taken over Jack’s kitchen, because “I’m not cruel enough to subject these two to your cooking.”

Jack found he didn’t actually mind having his home being used as a hideout by these potentially dangerous men. So long as a literal war didn’t park itself in his backyard, he was absolutely fine. He would bring them refreshments during their planning sessions. From listening in on them, he learned that Genji’s brother had tried to kill him, which was why he was in his current state. Now Genji was out for revenge, and they were trying to take down the family that had tried to assassinate him.

A week later the three set off, Jack actually waving goodbye to them this time. When they were gone, he went back inside to make sure everything would be ready for their return.

This time several months passed before Jack saw them again. A stranger was with them, a severe-looking dragon man with blue scales.

“Who’s the new guy?” Jack asked Reaper.

“Hanzo, Genji’s brother.”

“Didn’t he try to kill him?”

“They made up.”

And so Jack’s new routine was firmly established. He would play host to whatever eccentric figures Reaper would bring, trying to glean details of their current adventures. One time he bought a shadow mage who spent most of her time rifling through Jack’s things and playing pranks, and a very intimidating elven assassin whose ability to snap his neck Jack never doubted.  

“Akande’s very smart. It’s certain he left that opening out deliberately. If we take it we’re as good as dead.”

“Ah, but his guards aren’t so bright. They can be easily taken out from the shadows. Right Widow?”

“Of course.”

And amidst all that planning, Reaper made all the excuses he could to spend more time with Jack alone. Jack first suspected something was up when Reaper shoved bottles of various spices into his hands, murmuring that this would be the only time he would get something for Jack.

Then Reaper offered to teach Jack to cook. His excuse was that he was getting sick of being the only one who could cook a decent meal, to which Jack only smiled. Throughout the lesson Reaper made quite the effort to be as physically close to Jack as possible.

“Reaper, was it two tablespoons of pepper or three? I’m just making sure-”

“Gabriel.”

“Hm?”

“My name is Gabriel.”

Over time, Gabriel stopped coming with others, showing up by himself. He would stay for longer and longer periods of time, saying that he needed a break from all the fighting. The others were doing fine without him, they were skilled in their own right. And Jack would hum, going into the kitchen to cook one of the dishes Gabriel had taught him. At some point Gabriel moved into Jack’s room proper. About time as well.

When a messenger falcon appeared at the window, Gabriel took one look at its message and cursed, obviously upset by it. “One last job,” he told Jack. “Then I’m coming back here for good.”

So one night, when Jack was sitting on his porch watching the stars, he wasn’t surprised when a dark figure appeared at the foot of the steps. Gabriel took a seat by him, letting Jack take off his mask to plant a kiss on his lips.

“Welcome home.”  



End file.
